


my eyes, my breath

by dopaminekeeper



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Breathplay, Corsetry, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Feminization, M/M, Oral Sex, Sub!Juyeon, dom!chanhee, tightlacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dopaminekeeper/pseuds/dopaminekeeper
Summary: chanhee and juyeon and a corset and stolen breath
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Lee Juyeon
Comments: 21
Kudos: 103





	my eyes, my breath

**Author's Note:**

> brought about by my love of corsetry/tightlacing, a need for more dom!chanhee, and thinking a lot about junew and gender presentation.
> 
> cw for breathplay, body image as it relates to size and perceived femininity, feminization (consensual), and mild degradation.
> 
> title from 'no air' bc i couldn't resist
> 
> you can see the corset juyeon's wearing [here!](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/449023025333886447)

He gets Chanhee to do this for him because Chanhee’s the only one who knows firsthand what it feels like. He’s the only one who would make it hurt enough.

Juyeon can only do so much himself. He can only get the laces so tight when it’s just him alone in his room with the door locked, shame hot in his veins as he stares at himself in the mirror and pulls as hard as he can until his ribs ache and his breath goes shallow.

No, he needs someone else. He needs someone to plant their weight and ignore his distress and pull  _ harder,  _ and who better than Chanhee? Pretty, pretty Chanhee with his tiny waist and tiny hands and mean streak a mile wide when he’s given the go-ahead to let it out.

The corset Juyeon’s wearing today is dark and sheer, the boning channels a delicate black satin. Juyeon’s breath picks up the second it touches his bare waist, his hands shaking as he latches the busk down the front. His fingers are clumsy on the best of days and under Chanhee’s cool gaze he feels even more unwieldy, the tiny hooks slipping and catching.

“Are you going to take all night?” Chanhee says, tone almost bored. Juyeon’s heart stutters.

“Sorry,” he mutters, working at the second-to-last eye-hook, cheeks burning. “Sorry, I just —”

“You just…?” Chanhee crosses his arms in Juyeon’s peripheral vision. “Shouldn’t you be good at this from all the time you’ve spent locked up in here wearing these?”

Juyeon wants to apologize again. Instead, he seals his lips shut against the impulse, fumbling the very last eye-hook shut and keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him.

Chanhee walks a circle around him, slow and measured. The corset sits heavy on his waist and lace-clad hips, not tight yet but present. When he shifts, the frame rubs just under his nipples, chafing the oversensitive skin.

“I like this one,” Chanhee comments from behind Juyeon’s left shoulder, tracing just under the bottom panel, along his hip. “It suits you.”

“Thank you,” Juyeon answers. Chanhee doesn’t like it when he stays quiet, will demand a response if Juyeon doesn’t give one first. He shivers violently when Chanhee’s tiny hands wrap around his waist, hot on his skin even through the fabric panels and steel boning. Small as they are, when he’s done they’ll nearly be able to span Juyeon’s waist.

“Up against the wall for me, Juyeonie.”

Juyeon gulps and braces himself, palms flat and head hanging. Chanhee draws one finger down the nape of Juyeon’s neck, down his spine until he hits the corset’s frame about halfway down his back.

“Deep breath,” Chanhee orders. Juyeon takes it, shivering as Chanhee’s fingers run over his shoulders. He savors the air in his lungs, knowing he won’t get this much again for a while.

The corset is already laced, just loosely — neither of them are patient enough to actually try and lace it while they’re horny. Chanhee takes hold of the loops at the waistline, yanking them as far as they’ll give easily. It’s enough to have Juyeon gasping, even though Chanhee’s done nothing but make the corset conform to his skin.

“You’re gonna look so pretty, Juyeonie. I’m almost jealous,” Chanhee sighs, giving a harsh tug on the laces. It’s the first jolt against Juyeon’s torso that’s actually constrictive, just a little hint of breathlessness. When he inhales to answer Chanhee, it’s a  _ tiny _ bit more difficult in a way that goes straight to his dick.

“Thank you,” he manages, eyes falling shut. Chanhee clicks his tongue, sharp.

“Don’t  _ move _ .”

Chanhee plucks at the laces at the bottom first, pulling up and up; then from the top down, getting rid of the slack and then some, wresting any give from Juyeon’s willing body. Every breath is more laborious, diaphragm trembling — he almost imagines he can hear his own ribs creak.

“We’re almost there,” Chanhee says, pausing with one hand holding the laces taut, reaching the other around to rake his nails over Juyeon’s chest. “God, I bet you look obscene.”

Chanhee pinches cruelly at one of his nipples and Juyeon can’t hold back his sharp whimper. He can  _ feel  _ how swollen his chest is, the way the frame of the corset pushes up against it every time his waist gets smaller. His dick strains against his panties, and he hopes against hope that Chanhee hasn’t noticed yet.

Another deliciously harsh tug at the waistline loops constricts Juyeon further, forces a thin whine out of his mouth — he doesn’t have the breath to groan. Shame burns low in his belly, feeding his arousal, on and on. Chanhee makes another pass down the laces, pulling any remaining slack out of them.

“Okay, last one,” Chanhee says, just the slightest bit stilted, revealing that he’s also turned on no matter how well he tries to hide it. He takes both loops in one hand, bracing the other on the small of Juyeon’s back for more leverage. “You ready, princess?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. He can’t spare more breath than that. “Please.”

“Good.”

Chanhee yanks with all the strength he hides in that lithe body of his, the extra leverage allowing him to tighten the corset so far that the back panels are only a few centimeters apart — a feat, given the breadth of Juyeon’s torso.

Juyeon squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to take even a shallow breath, dick throbbing. His mind goes blessedly fuzzy, only aware of the sensation of Chanhee tying the laces off and checking to make sure the corset is straight and properly in place.

“Turn around,” Chanhee orders quietly. Juyeon turns around, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. Chanhee’s eyes go wide for a moment before narrowing with undisguised lust.

“You should see yourself, princess.” He steps forward, reaching up to roughly squeeze Juyeon’s tits, normally flat but now forcibly pushed up and out by the corset’s frame. Juyeon bites his lip so hard it hurts. He can’t stop watching Chanhee watching him, the way those sharp eyes rove over him like he’s starving and Juyeon’s the last meal on earth.

“Can I?” he rasps before he can stop himself. He quickly corrects, “can I see myself? Please?”

“Go ahead.”

Juyeon steps in front of the long mirror that hangs on the closet door. He can’t contain the little gasp that escapes his lips. He almost can’t believe that it’s his own reflection staring back at him — broad shoulders, yes, but the curve of his ribcage is so elegant, leading the eye down to the tiny divot of his waist. His hips flare where normally there’s no definition, inviting the press of hands.

He supposes that he looks almost like Chanhee does all the time, though Chanhee does it without trying, without struggle and pulling and pain, and the thought only makes Juyeon hotter in a difficult, tangled-up way.

Chanhee sidles up behind him, making eye contact in the mirror as he slips his palms around Juyeon’s waist. Juyeon was right — his fingertips  _ do _ almost touch, despite being so small. It makes Juyeon groan, desperately wishing he could hide his face, but there’s nowhere to go.

“Look at that, princess,” Chanhee taunts, palming the bulge in Juyeon’s panties. “You need me to take care of this, too?”

“Please?” His voice sounds so  _ small. _

“So needy.” The dismissiveness in Chanhee’s voice hits Juyeon like a gut-punch. “Maybe if you suck me off good enough, I’ll touch you.”

Juyeon scrambles to his knees, the effort of every movement magnified tenfold by the lack of oxygen. Chanhee giggles at his clumsiness, all the usual grace sapped out of his body, and it makes Juyeon’s cheeks burn even as he opens his mouth and waits.

“Good girl,” murmurs Chanhee, slipping his fingers into Juyeon’s hair and gripping tight. With the other, he pulls his dick out of his leggings just enough to feed it past Juyeon’s lips, resting heavy on his tongue. “Go on, princess, or do I have to do  _ everything _ for you?”

Juyeon whimpers, eyes slipping shut as he bobs forward to take more, already starting to feel the burn in his lungs. It’s a stuttering, gasping rhythm, messy and wet, and Chanhee doesn’t miss the way Juyeon whines when he forces him to stay down for an extra second, a moment past that breathless too-much, not enough air and drool dripping from the corners of his lips.

“That’s disgusting, Juyeonie,” he says, pulling away entirely and bending to wipe the spit-slick from Juyeon’s chin. “You look like a cheap whore.”

Juyeon doesn’t answer, too busy attempting to heave air back into his lungs, wheezing when he can’t take more than the shallowest of breaths. It barely registers when Chanhee slaps his cheek lightly, the sting overpowered by the rushing in his ears.

_ “Hey.” _ Another slap, much harder this time, and Juyeon gives a soft cry, looking up with bleary, red-rimmed eyes. “Focus, princess.”

“Sorry,” Juyeon manages. His voice is a quiet wreck, ragged and wet.

Luckily, it doesn’t take much more of fucking Juyeon’s mouth for Chanhee to get close, grip so tight in Juyeon’s hair that the sting becomes a constant, grounding burn. Juyeon’s whole body is one big ache, from his knees to his ribs to his lungs to his throat, but it’s good, it’s mindless, it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

Chanhee comes on a sighing moan, sweet and reedy, half in Juyeon’s mouth and half painted across his face. Juyeon swallows as best he can, tries not to cough as he gasps for air that won’t come.

“Disgusting,” Chanhee repeats, swiping his fingertips over Juyeon’s soiled cheek and shoving them into Juyeon’s mouth. He can barely suck them clean with how weak he feels, unmoored and drifting. His head pounds in time with his arousal, but it all feels so distant. “Can you get up on the bed?”

Juyeon nods, stumbling up to his feet. He almost falls, steadied only by Chanhee’s hands on his waist — his tiny, cinched waist. The reminder sends him spiraling again even as Chanhee arranges him on his back, legs spread and arms thrown haphazardly about his head.

“Look at that,” Chanhee says, crawling up onto the bed after Juyeon. “So wet, just from getting dressed up and used.”

He flicks the head of Juyeon’s dick where it shows through a wet patch in his underwear, and Juyeon keens weakly at the pain.

“Please,” he breathes, hips hitching minutely as they want to struggle but can’t find the strength to do so.

“Please, what?” Chanhee traces one finger over the outline of Juyeon’s dick, the tease agonizing after so long untouched. “If you want me to do something, you have to ask for it with your words instead of whining like a whore.”

“Touch me, make me come, please.” The words barely make a sound leaving his lips. Chanhee’s smile curls up sweetly, smug and self-satisfied.

“Well, I guess I did promise,” he says, sighing in a way that goes right to Juyeon’s head, makes him feels small.

Juyeon whines and squirms half-heartedly as Chanhee’s lips wrap around his dick, hot and slick, tongue clever and ruthless. Chanhee holds his hips down easily, barely needs to exert pressure when Juyeon’s this weak and exhausted. He teases and strings him along, always pulling back when Juyeon wants more,  _ needs _ more, but Juyeon barely has enough breath in his lungs to whimper at the sensation he  _ is  _ allowed.

All too soon, though, he plateaus, and that gnawing, empty feeling inside him makes itself known.

“Chanhee, please, I need…” He drags in a shallow, wheezing breath, losing it in a messy exhale when Chanhee swirls his tongue along Juyeon’s slit.

“Hm?” It’s coy, saccharine,  _ infuriating. _ Juyeon forces in another breath, feeling the aching strain in his stomach, his ribs.

“Need something inside,” he manages, eyes slipping shut,  _ “please.” _

“Ah, I see.” Chanhee drags fingernails up Juyeon’s thigh, just hard enough to leave thin, red lines. “You can’t come without something inside you?”

Juyeon shakes his head, cheeks heating in mortification. They both know it, but it’s embarrassing to drag it into the light every single time they do this.

Chanhee clicks his tongue, feigning annoyance as he reaches to the bedside table for lube. “I guess I can do something about that. You’re lucky I’m so nice, princess.”

“Thank you,” Juyeon breathes, letting his legs fall further open and his body go slack. The picture he must make… it sends him spiralling, head fuzzy and skin tingling, though the lack of oxygen might have something to do with that as well.

Chanhee doesn’t give him a warning before he pushes Juyeon’s underwear aside and presses a slim finger into him. Juyeon jolts and gasps, quickly melting into the bed. Finding him easy and forgiving, Chanhee presses a second finger inside, curling them and dragging until he gets the reaction he wants.

“Oh, is that all you needed? Just needed to be full?” Chanhee mocks, fingers circling and pressing just the right way to have Juyeon heaving rapid, shallow breaths. Chanhee giggles, sweet and cute and small and everything Juyeon wants to be _ ,  _ and wraps his other hand around Juyeon’s swollen, leaking dick. “You’re such a slut, Juyeonie. So  _ gross.” _

He wants to say something,  _ anything,  _ but there’s not enough  _ air,  _ he’s struggling even to keep his eyes open and fixed on Chanhee, watching him in return. Chanhee, flushed pink and smiling smug like he’s some kind of pretty, poisonous flower and Juyeon’s wandered right into his trap.

“You’re such a little princess, Juyeonie,” Chanhee says, cloyingly condescending, thumb rubbing just under the head of Juyeon’s dick as precum drips steadily down. “Making me do so much work ‘cause you just  _ have  _ to have something in your needy little cunt.”

And that’s all it takes for Juyeon to tip over the edge, gasping and gasping for air, clutching at the sheets and spilling all over Chanhee’s hand. Chanhee continues to massage his prostate, keeping him strung-along and shuddering through the aftershocks and straight into overstimulation.

Only once Juyeon’s struggling away from Chanhee’s hands and silently crying out in protest does Chanhee stop with a delighted little giggle.

“Breathe, princess,” he coaxes, tone still on the edge of amusement as he pulls his fingers free and wipes them clean on a rag. It’s an order Juyeon can barely follow, ribs aching and lungs desperate for a full, deep breath. “Can you sit up for me? Need to get you out of that.”

With the last reserves of his energy, Juyeon manages to sit up enough for Chanhee to slot in behind him and get to the laces, pulling at the tails of the bow until it falls away. He picks systematically at the ribbons, and with each movement, Juyeon takes in a little more air, breathes a little easier. The fog in his head clears, bit by bit.

When the laces are fully loose, Chanhee moves to Juyeon’s front to undo the busk, biting out a short curse when the residual lube and sweat on his fingers make the clasps too slippery to handle. Juyeon laughs quietly and takes over, the shaking in his hands gone down now that he can breathe properly, and soon the corset is off, set aside at the foot of the bed.

“Alright?” Chanhee asks, tracing fingertips over the angry red indentations along Juyeon’s hips and stomach, up and over his ribs and under his pecs. Juyeon nods, sighing and leaning back against the pillows, spent and exhausted. Chanhee huffs and climbs up to curl next to him, murmuring,  _ “good.” _

They lay in silence for a long minute with only the sound of their complementary breathing in the room.

“Thanks,” Juyeon mumbles, tracing idle circles on Chanhee’s shoulder. Chanhee makes an inquisitive noise, and he continues, “for doing this for me.”

“Well, it’s certainly not  _ just _ for you.”

“I know.” Juyeon presses his smile into Chanhee’s hair. “It’s just… I don’t know. I know it’s weird, but you get it. You’re only mean the way I want it.”

Chanhee hums. “It’s important, yeah?” He props himself up to look at Juyeon, expression intent. “You know that however you want to be seen, it’s… I mean…” He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “You should do what you want to do, is what I mean. This doesn’t just have to be here, with me.”

Juyeon’s chest clenches, like he’s back in the corset with his airflow restricted. He swallows.

“Okay.” His voice sounds so small, even to his own ears.

Chanhee shoves him in the chest, unsatisfied with Juyeon’s lukewarm response. “I mean it, Juyeonie!”

It’s so kittenish and ineffectual that Juyeon can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, okay!” He pulls Chanhee in with arms still shaky and weak, arranging them so Chanhee’s head is pillowed on his chest, his fluffy hair tickling Juyeon’s chin. “Thanks, Chanhee.”

“Mmhm.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos keep me going!!!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dopaminekeeper)! 18+ only pls


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